Collide
by ColorTheSky
Summary: When Katniss is overcome by a hellish nightmare whose center point would be Gale, what is she to do? A one-shot 'shower' escapade.


A/n- Hey guys! It's been a while! But I am back-momentarily- with one of my signature oneshots. I just hate the WRITTEN story of Gale and Katniss, and in my opinion, they should have been given more closure and details. I will forever go down with this ship. Forever. Even though the movie and book say otherwise. I hope I still got some of my mojo left hahaha!

To explain the title, this was inspired by Howie Day's most famous song, Collide. Take a listen to it if you haven't heard it!

Hope you enjoy!

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><p>COLLIDE<p>

All that I know is that I am running.

And when my eyes come across the raised platform in the middle of the square, I know why and I start to run faster.

_Faster, faster! _I tell my feet, but for some reason the push is not enough. For with every step I take, it seems that he is moving farther away from my reach. I am frustrated with myself, my breath hitching in my throat, and in desperation, I raise my arm, as if to eradicate some of the distance that is in between us. But I am thrown off my feet when I trip over the first step to the platform.

I land hard on the stage, my palms scraped as I drop to my knees in front of the Peacekeeper lashing out at the boy to my right.

_No!_ I try to scream, forcing out breaths, but no one can hear me. This sends panic through my veins and I try again to reach him, but every breath I let out is another whip to his raw back.

He is tied to the pole with his hand above his head and I cry as I see his eyes on me-

Grey and blank, like the ashes of a fire long burned out.

I try to touch his face, fearing that cold skin will prove my thoughts to be true, but then I start to swim in his blood, pooled on the wooden planks, the level rising and rising until I have to stand on my toes to breathe. I drown in him, choking on failure, choking on the chances I were given to save him, but then I breathe and am presented with another kind of nightmare.

_Thwack, thwack, thwack. _The sound goes on and on and I have to cover my ears to prevent the horrible sound from consuming me. I see his eyes, relieved they are with life, but it is long gone when I see that his eyes are red, like the rose which predicts my death. I look away, only to have my ears hear every tortured scream Gale manages to produce. With sweaty hands I start to claw at my ears which only hear the sounds of him calling my name, as if every letter were poison.

But I stop when his eyes close, and his whole body slumps down onto the floor. His face inches away from my feet.

And somewhere far, I hear the loud, hearty laugh of Peeta, sounding in the distance.

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><p>My heartbeat rings loud in my ears, my lungs unable to get hold of enough air in time, and I gasp out loud as I sit up. Unconsciously, I grab hold my sheets as if I were holding on to something.<p>

Or someone.

And then it hits me.

I throw off my covers in a hurry, every part of me shaking uncontrollably. Each step down the stairs is like a nail embedding itself into my bones, but I move, relishing the pain. It tells me that I am alive, and that I can still make things right. I can still save him.

When I finally reach the ground floor of my home in the Victor's Village, I sigh in relief. Grabbing the nearest coat to cover my sleeping clothes, and boots to cover my feet, I start to run.

I don't mind the gawking of people as I run across the streets. I ignore their silent whispers of _Hero _echoing in my ears. I ignore their hidden hopes and desires as they struggle not to grab my shoulders and ask me why I am not doing anything for their losses. Never mind the glares, I just think of him and run.

I run like one of my arrows finding its way to the target, straight and sure, convincing me that I will never again lose any chance of keeping him alive. I would face a thousand whips for him. For him I would kill hundreds of Snows.

As long as I run to him, it is as if I make myself believe that no one will touch him. No one will kill him.

I tell my feet, _faster, faster, _and this time, they obey, and I think of only his grey eyes looking at me with such love it's like seeing a storm brew in them, and this time the push is enough.

I see one of my most favourite doors a few blocks away, the pale green rectangle with the golden knob, and I know that this time, I have not failed.

I reach the humble door of the Hawthornes with a price. My chest tightens and my hair has flown from its braid, but I muster up the strength to knock thrice, my legs and lungs burning more than it ever did in the arena.

Out of breath, I rest my back on the smooth wood and gasp for air, not forgetting to remind myself that I have gotten here in time, though I was unsure what for.

_I've made it, I've made it, _I scream in my head, and I know what my goal had been all along.

Once I clutch the thick material of my coat with a hand and wipe my forehead with the other, I find myself falling from behind as the door unlocks itself from my weight. For a moment I thought my chances were about to disappear, as my head would crack open, but I land with a soft thud on one of Hazel's homemade rugs.

For a few moments I stay there, my courage faltering. How foolish that I come unprepared! How silly of me to come running here, into his home, looking like a fish out of water, flopping up and down, thinking of myself as his hero. How could I think that my presence would simply save his life-

I laugh at myself darkly, my breathing still unstable, as I use one knee to get up. I _have _been a foolish, foolish girl- my heart suddenly stops as I realize that no one has come to check on who has opened the door. I panic, rushing into every room of their cosy home, seeing that no one was here.

They've taken them.

I make it to Gale's room and I collapse on his bed, my knees no longer able to hold me upright. I relish his smell all over the sheets, and my breath hitches in my throat.

Every ounce of courage and invincibility I had felt before turns into grief.

I have been too late.

I put my arms around my knees and start to crush my body against itself, and wince when my knees start to bruise my chest. I hold still until I am unable to breathe and I hold back tears as if swallowing a big mould of clay.

When I return home, will I find another blood red rose on my desktop, reminding me of another fault, another failure? Will I find truth in my nightmares? Will I see Gale's lifeless eyes in the near future?

I bite my lip until it bleeds, and the taste gives me sudden strength. I force myself to calm my breaths, to wipe away the tears around my eyes and to stand, and only then do I hear the low rumble of flowing water in Gale's washroom.

Without a thought, I enter the room, my steps slight, soundless and fleeting, until I make up enough courage to raise my eyes and see Gale through a transparent curtain, the overhead window silhouetting his body. The air is humid, but calm, and I just stand there for some time and breathe.

I've found him. I'm not too late.

Thoughtlessly, I open the curtain and I see his broad muscular back, designed with red scars and welts as if his back were one of those paintings which portray sorrow and misery as something beautiful. The water is so loud against the smooth tiles of the room it was almost as if I couldn't hear my own thoughts- but the clarity of what I felt was something gravely impossible to forget.

I breathe loud enough for him to hear me, and he glances back momentarily, but looks away like my face was unpleasant, and a pang of regret is imminent in my heart.

I have not yet seen his eyes.

I cautiously step into the bath, every movement filled with care, until I am face to face with the beauty of what is the love of Gale and I, something harsh and cruel, something painful and masochistic, but is nonetheless a work of art. As my coat gets heavier and heavier from the weight of the warm water, I have no choice but to remove it and toss it aside, the simple act sending intimate feels through me. It is as if I am telling Gale that I am no longer closed, I'm telling Gale that I am now as vulnerable as he. He swiftly glances at the coat I have discarded but makes no move to look at me, so instead I show him what I feel.

With the soft touch of my fingertips, I trace each raised mark and line on his spine, moving lower and lower until I reach the base, enjoying his soft shudders which accompany each of my strokes. I pause momentarily and retract my hand, savouring the feels of wetness on my skin, and I shiver involuntarily. My sleep clothes are now soaked, but I make no move to take them off. The cotton of my nightdress seems to soften the harsh splutter of water from the showerhead, but instead I ignore them and eye the ricochets of the water as they land on his olive toned skin. It's as if each dribble of water outlines the taut muscles of his body, and finally it dawns on me that this must be the right moment. This would be intimacy at its finest.

Shaken by the suddenness of my feelings, my scrawny arms snake its way around Gale's waist from behind. My hands land on his chest, and I tremble, feeling his lean muscles under them. I press my cheek to his back, my lips instinctively landing on his scars.

Even I awe at my boldness, but at this moment I am no longer thinking, I am simply doing, as I should have been a long time ago.

My lips trail along his ribs, then up to his shoulders. When my hands relocate themselves to his arms, I hear his breath catch as I stand on my toes to kiss his neck.

It is when I am kissing his neck scars when he finally turns to look at me over his shoulder with his beautiful eyes. I look at his face hungrily, absorbing every little detail as fast as possible, and when my eyes land on his lips he turns away.

I know that it's time, and that there would never have been a better time to do so, so I place my cheek against the small of his back, and my arms embrace him again at the waist. With a whisper loud enough to sound above the harsh water, I say, "I love you."

With this he finally turns around, my arms still around him, it is agonizingly slow. But I am patient, for with me he has been patient for so long. I dare not look down, though I must admit that it is nothing I haven't seen before. And finally when we are face to face, to ensure myself that this is truly happening, I look up at him to say, "I love you."

Gale looks down at me, confusion still evident in his eyes and his brows in a furrow, and I tell myself that there is no backing out now. I have come here for one thing, and I will not fail.

"I love you," I tell him again, my voice now filled with a sense of sureness.

He is about to say something when I cut him off, my lips quickly landing on his. After one brush, I expect him to shrug me off, to shoo me away and to tell me again that I have failed, for that is how Gale is. But when I pull away, he cups my face and pours out everything he feels into one lip lock. In this kiss I feel the urgency of every touch, every hold, every movement Gale and I make under the warm water.

In a matter of seconds my hands are around his neck and his hands are exploring every inch of my back, and through the wet cotton I feel his rough calloused hands rub circles on my shoulders, comforting me, and with this I become angry with myself. He must not feel like I am in pain, for I am the one who caused him a whole deal of it.

As he kisses my neck, my whole body pulsing with anticipation, I force myself to stop and hold still. "Gale," I say.

In response, he continues to massage my jaw with his lips, and I am compelled to take hold of his face with my hands. I look at him then, my heart fluttering at the ghost of a smile on his features, and on impulse I trace his features with my thumb, unable to speak. I finger his almond grey eyes with the purple circles underneath, then the crooked slope of his nose, his stubbly jawline and finally his pink lips. I close my eyes and tell myself to control my actions.

After a few moments, I am finally able to force myself to say, "I'm sorry."

His smile wrinkles the skin around his eyes. "There is nothing to be sorry for."

"Gale, if I'd gotten there earlier-" Absentmindedly I finger the welts on his spine.

"Shh," he says as he swoops in to plant a kiss on my lips, but I move sideways and feel his kiss on my cheek.

"Gale, I'm leaving tomorrow for the victory tour."

"I know," he says calmly, as if we weren't two lovers together in the shower, but like how a friend would talk to a friend. This thought was interrupted by his arms trapping me and hugging me to his muscular chest, while a breath escapes from his lips and it grazes my neck. I hug him back, with as much urgency as before, and flinch when my fingers land on his scars. This reminds me of what I have to tell him.

"I already told Peeta-" With the mention of his name, he tenses up under me and holds me closer, as if Peeta would grab me away from him right then and there.

"I told Peeta whom I've chosen."

"I know," he says, relieved, letting out a breath.

"Gale, whatever happens-"

"I know," he says.

"How can you-"

"I know," he says again, like the old times when we would converse with only our movements and the looks of our eyes.

"Wait for me, Gale-"

"I love you, Katniss."

And this time, though taken aback, I knew the answer.

"Gale Hawthorne, I love you too."

I don't know why, but I start to cry, although it is masked by the water washing away my tears. With my choked sobs, Gale embraces me even tighter, and extraordinarily I know that I am home.

I hold the arms around me and I tip up my head to remove the distance between us, and for the first time in the moment, I am overcome with passion as my legs wrap around his torso and his hands reach up under my nightgown. My lips and limbs intertwine with his, and my lungs burn from the lack of a breath but I am given a chance to inhale when I hit the wall and Gale kisses my jaw. His hands are still under my clothes, feeling my stomach and the areas above it when he starts to rub my shoulders and finally reaches the hook of my undergarment. My hands are all over him in an instant, feeling every scar and muscle in his body. I roam up and down his torso and back when I realize our state of undress.

By now, my gown would have been transparent.

I freeze under Gale's lips on my shoulder and release my legs from around him.

I stand straight to find disappointment in Gale's eyes, but I give him one last kiss before holding him tight.

"I know you were looking for them," he says pointedly. "They're having some of Greasy Sae's rabbit leg soup at the moment," he says, the hurry and sorrow in his eyes long gone, replaced with amusement and a certain kind of fondness.

"Who?" I ask.

"Mother, Rory, Vick and Posy," he says, and I start to laugh giddily with relief.

"Gale, we better get out of this washroom if you don't want to end up a wrinkled prune," I say to his chest and sigh, smelling the woodsy scent that I've always loved, all over his skin.

"Catnip, we're both _almost_ nude at this moment, my manhood is staring at you in the face, and you're still thinking about looking like a prune? " He says with a low chuckle, mischief in his eyes.

I blush when I feel a strange poking near my navel. I shake my head in order to relieve my face of the blood it once held before and to remove my thoughts off our current situation. "No, I'm thinking about how much I love you," I say before I could stop.

"And what brought about this confession?" He asks, eyes now warmer and softer- the look that I have become possessive over the few years.

"A nightmare, Gale," I say quietly. "About these," I lightly touch the scars all over him.

"I'm fine Catnip-"

"You know why they say that our hearts are on the left side, Gale?" I ask, placing both my hands on the left side of his chest.

"Why?"

"Because they're not always right."

Gale looks at me in confusion, then I add softly, "I was wrong about Peeta. I know that I am not for him."

And with that he looks at me with all the love in the world, and this time when he kisses me, it is not urgent, but smooth and sweet, like dripping honey. When we both stop to breathe, I find his eyes inches away from mine, and I find a stray, wet, dark lock and push it away from his forehead.

I take him in as if it is the last sight I will ever see.

"I am yours and you are _mine,_" I breathe, my thumbs rubbing his cheeks. "Anything else would be unthinkable."

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><p>An- Care to review and tell me if there are some things I should change? :)

Thanks for reading! Heehee. :)


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